844 days, 20,256 hours, 1,215,360 minutes, or 72,921,600 seconds. That is the approximate duration of my world tour. I never wanted it to end and now, in a manner of speaking, I suppose it never has to. If you wish to go by country do so by clicking on one above. They are numbered in the order I visited them, more or less. If you enjoy reading about it even a tenth as much as I enjoyed living it then you will not have wasted your time. Grab a refreshing beverage, settle in a comfortable chair, and make a journey across the world, experiencing it as I did. Then get off your ass and check it out for yourself. You're not getting any younger.

Blue of the Deepest Hue (Upper Mustang, Nepal) Part II

Nov
17th,
2009- One thing you will notice in Nepal is that men, woman, and
children will hack, spit, and expel congestants from their bodies
with reckless abandon and the utmost alacrity. It sometimes sounds as
if an individual has a personal vendetta against their respiratory
track. And when you take into account the arid, dusty conditions of
the Mustang area the phenomenon only intensifies. In a word: lovely.

In
addition to Hans and Grets there is also a group of mature French
tourists following the same track and they were every bit as friendly
as my two German counterparts. The second tea house stop saw me
eating at a table surrounded by folks while being completely ignored.
I suppose struggling in English was probably more trouble than it was
worth. Not really such a big deal as bedtime came shortly after the
setting sun. Turning in at 8 pm would have been a late night for me.

Notwithstanding
an almost complete lack of companionship (Ram was friendly enough but
did not have a whole lot to say and I was normally 20-30 minutes
ahead of him along the trail) the trekking was incredible. I was
often ahead of both groups and generally alone except for the few
locals that I passed along the trail. I am fairly certain I have
never witnessed skies as blue as the ones I saw day after day during
this journey. It was remarkable and left me questioning the very
definition of the phrase ‘deep blue’. It does not get deeper than
that. When the sky is basically the same shade of blue with or
without a pair of polarized sunglasses you know you are in the
Himalayas.

And
the landscape? Well, imagine a northern Arizona Grand Canyon-ish
scenario, throw the Himalayas in the background and you get a fairly
good idea about what I saw day after day. Mix in the cool crisp
weather of late autumn (right before the onset of winter) in Upstate
New York and the distant sound of donkey bells to complete the
impression.

And
don’t forget the endless accoutrements of Buddhism that dot the
countryside and the trail itself. Cairns, prayer
flags, chortens (stupas), mani
stones, and mani
walls are in constant supply. Breathtaking, desolate, beautiful,
magical. If you find yourself on the trail by yourself take a minute
to stand in silence and feel the subtle hum that haunts the
landscape. It will move you.

Notice the folks on the trail?

Grinding millet the old fashioned way

Ram
was bit concerned with my pace in light of the altitude, hovering
between 3000 to 4000 meters (9900 to 13200 ft) for much of the way.
It is nothing to shake a stick at but we were not exactly in the
heart of the Himalayas. I explained that I had been at altitude
before and felt pretty good. So I trudged on ahead. That is not to
say I did not feel the height. On the contrary, towards the beginning
my heart was behaving in a way I prefer it not to, causing me to slow
down, but for the most part I felt great. I think the background and
scenery acted a bit like a stimulant in some sense.

Each
day I worry whether there will be enough blankets to keep me warm at
the next tea house. Luckily, I have the Kama Sutra to light
my fire just in case. In Chapter IV, “Life of the Citizen”,
the householder (i.e. stud muffin):

“…having
got up in the morning and performed his duties [i.e. the call of
nature], should wash his teeth, apply a limited quantity of ointments
on his person and collyrium on his eyelids and below his eyes, color
his lips with alacktaka, and look at himself in the glass. Having
then eaten betel leaves, with other things that give fragrance to the
mouth, he should perform his usual business. He should bathe daily,
anoint his body with oil every other day, apply a lathering substance
to his body every three days, get his head (including face) shaved
every four days and the other parts of his body every five to ten
days. All these things should be done without fail, and the sweat of
armpits should also be removed…..After breakfast, parrots and other
birds should be taught to speak, and fighting of cocks, quails, and
rams should follow.”

I
am really close on this although I prefer beryllium to collyrium on
my eyelids. Also, I am an ardent proponent of anointing my body with
oil every day. My parrots don’t just speak they sing, dance,
juggle, and cook one hell of a Denver omelet. And as I am a pacifist
I encourage my cocks, quails, and rams to settle their disagreements
peacefully through mediation and copious amounts of cannabis.

At
one point (on day four I believe) I ripped my ridiculous hat and my
heart became heavy with sorrow. But I remembered the duct tape I
brought along and my heart became light as a feather and full of
glee. Duct tape: Don’t leave home without it.

In
general most of the dwellings encountered in villages are built of
packed earth and dried mud bricks on a stone foundation. They are
normally two or three stories built around a central courtyard. On
the roof, along with rooms normally, is a balcony overlooking a
courtyard. This a great place to gaze at a night sky almost
completely unimpeded by ambient light. I wish I'd spent more time
doing so but the call of a warm bed was overpowering. Exhaustion
played a part as well.

Almost
without fail my trusty German companions and I would find ourselves
huddled in a fairly capacious kitchen warming ourselves and watching
the woman of the house prepare our meals. There was something
hypnotic about watching these women go about their business. All were
friendly and courteous and appeared to enjoy the work, as if we were
somehow doing them a favor by entreating them to keep themselves warm
by dancing around the kitchen in their cooking stupor. It was good I
had something to watch as Hans and Grets were still a bit cold (as in
not so friendly) at this point and my guide, for the most part, was
as lost in thought as I was. I wonder what occupied his mind?

Wildlife
is not so abundant although I did see a scampering lizard here and
there as well as the strange call of the few species of bird that dot
the skies. If not for the yaks, horses, goats, sheep, and cows herded
by the locals I would have seen almost no animals at all. Horses are
used as pack animals and are encountered regularly as are the sheep
being herded across the dry landscape. I see these gentlemen with
their flock and wonder how lonely it must be with nothing but the
howl of the wind and the sound of ‘baaaaa’ to keep you company.

Have
I mentioned the caves? The countryside is speckled with caves that
some believe are thousands of years old although no one seems to
really know. Many are completely inaccessible due to erosion or the
withering away of paths or ladders long ago. It has been suggested
that many were used when Tibetans started to flee Tibet after the
Chinese takeover. On the way I did climb up to a few that could be
reached with a little effort but there was nothing much to see.

I’ve
read that there used to be large forests in the Kingdom of Lo but it
was all carried away long ago for firewood. The trees that do exist
are mostly poplars planted within the confines of stone walls by the
citizens. I am told poplar grows quickly and is an adequate source of
firewood.

You
find the entrances to many buildings adorned with sheep horns and
many twigs in the shape of a cross with threads woven in a
diamond-shaped pattern. These are known as 'zor' and are
used to capture evil spirits. I also saw a couple of rabbit heads
hanging from a string as I entered a few buildings but was unable to
determine the significance. One day I asked Ram who then questioned
the gentleman preparing our lunch noodles and was given the
equivalent of 'just for shits and giggles' response. As I saw it more
than once I assume there is more to it than that but who the the hell
knows. Repel demons, perhaps?

On
day five we had a lunch at a tea house that accepts Visa and
Mastercard (So much for avoiding the intrusion of modernity). They
were most enthusiastic about us visiting their souvenir shop/prayer
room which may account for the acceptance of plastic. Their shop was
filled with alluring Tibetan treasures whose significance completely
eludes me. I would love to stock up but who the hell wants to carry
souvenirs?

This was the scene in the dining area of one of the tea houses where we had lunch

That
night my blanket arsenal consisted of just two so I donned a few
extra articles of clothing. I was afraid that perhaps that I was
diverting blankets away from family members so was a bit sheepish
about asking for extra. The next morning I saw the storage room.
There were enough blankets to keep Godzilla cozy. Darn it.

The
next morning Hans and Grets were wearing the same flannel shirt, same
pants (different color), and the same hiking shoes. I know adorable
when I see it.

Entering
the town of Charang (or was it Chusang?) was a little like stepping
into a surreal American western movie with just a hint of horror
flick about it. At first we saw no one and then I noticed a shape
approaching, a man who appeared to be dancing a bit in an up and down
perseverating
motion. I remember wanting to hear the music but as I approached I
realized this man was not dancing at all, but in all likelihood
suffering from some type of nerve disorder.

As
there was no one else on the path I found it strange that we failed
to illicit even a passing glance. Cue the theme from Halloween.
Entering this town one feels a bit like a rat let loose in a maze.
Where's the cheese? A few wrong turns by Ram only helped fuel the
comparison. But after an inquiry we found our abode for the evening.

That
night I occupied the room directly adjacent to Hans and Grets. Only a
thin sheet of particle board separated us and any sound on either
side was heard by all. We were still only passing mild pleasantries
between us and the temptation for obnoxious behavior was more than I
could bear. In light of my recent intestinal tribulations I decided
that a exuberant display of flatulence would be in order upon
retiring for sleep. Childish, petty, and damn funny. However, my
bowels failed me and Team Germany was spared my wrath.

And
a word on food. When I exert myself after a period of relative
inactivity my appetite begins to take on Herculean proportions and
this trip was no exception. It was mildly disturbing how much I put
away on a daily basis. Often I was still a bit peckish even after
devouring two or three helpings of dal
bhat. From the beginning Ram voiced his concern about my tendency
to go over budget in the meal category. I assured him I would cover
whatever costs my stomach saw fit to incur. And I continued to
eat..and eat..and eat….and eat....

After
watching Hans and Grets’ porter lug around three quarters of his
body weight day after day I coined a new term: humulan or ‘human
mule’. This phenomenon is by no means extraordinary and porters
often carry up to 60 kgs (132 lbs) during a trek. For the most part
they are quite jovial considering the load and my new friend was no
different. In fact he was constantly wearing a shit-eating grin, as
if he was waiting for me to figure out the joke he'd already played
upon me.

It
was on this stop where I had the pleasure of sampling Tibetan
Yak Butter Tea.
I found the prospect intriguing. Want to try? First take my Yak
Butter Tea Compatibility Test:

1) Do
you like the taste of butter? Y or N.

2) Do
you like ingesting butter on its own? Y or N.

3) Do
you like melting butter, adding hot water and drinking it in a glass?
Y or N.

If
you answered 'no' to any of the above questions I think it may not be
for you. I was assured there is Tibetan tea mixed in but all I could
taste was the butter. It okay at first but by the bottom of the glass
it was all I could do to put it to my lips. Maybe it was a bad batch.

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